Johanna

Loneliness can take many forms. One can be lonely in a room full of people, one can be lonely surrounded by loved ones. One can feel lonely in one place and no longer in another. It's an absence, it’s a state of mind, and sometimes it is a decision. To collect all the songs attributed to loneliness would take a great archiving across all genres since the beginning of recorded music. It’s one of the trademark themes of both country and blues, think Hank Williams’ “I’m So Lonely I Could Cry,” or Ray Charles’ “Lonely Blues.” And like many of the qualities that transcended traditional American country and blues, loneliness is no less a prevalent topic today than it was then. It’s a primal human emotion and experience. It can be exhausting and troublesome, in some cases complicated, and others clear as day. No matter the circumstance loneliness may find you in, here is the first instalment of my favorite songs regarding loneliness. Bob Dylan’s Dream- Bob Dylan: This Dylan song ...

In a time where all the good band names have seem to run out, it’s good to see someone is still carrying the torch.  The Regrettes are a four piece band whose eldest member is just old enough to be a college graduate. They create a blend of pop punk that hasn’t quite been done before, previously dubbed with the tagline “Bikini Kill meets the Supremes.” The force and power chords of punk with the sincerity and backing vocals of doo-wop, it’s a mix that comes off as nothing short of charming. But unlike the glorious Riot Grrrl anger of the 1990s, The Regrettes no longer have to scream to be heard. They are telling you their demands of respect and you have no choice but to accept.  Spearheaded by the incomparable Lydia Night, the group met at a School of Rock program in California while still attending high school. Soon after, The Regrettes were recording together and released their debut album “Feel Your Feelings Fool” in 2017. Though it didn’t get much mass attention from...

Sometimes I will listen to a song 40 times before I actually hear it. I didn’t know the reason I kept with “Big Black Heart” by Better Oblivion Community Center until I realized I might be in love with the song. Compelling at first, and then resonant and beautiful, I found it to be my personal favorite from Phoebe Bridgers and Conor Oberst’s new project. It’s the second to last track on this group’s self-titled debut, buried by [also great] songs like “Dylan Thomas” and “Didn’t Know What I Was In For,” that claim a lot of the attention of this record. “Big Black Heart,” like many on the album, is a great example of how Bridgers and Oberst are able to merge their singular identities into a cohesive duo. In an interview, Oberst explained how the goal was to blend the sound of their voices together rather than split up the verses, allowing the two to transcend from a duet to certified band. One of the major strengths of this duo is their honesty. And not just in the confessional...

I was hesitant to see Bohemian Rhapsody because I could feel my inner defense mechanisms against the superficial popularization of great rock and roll flaring up. I heard all my self-proclaimed “I don’t like old music” friends praising the film and claiming Freddie Mercury as their new god. For better or for worse events like this make my blood red-hot, considering I have spent the entirety of my short life scouring the records and personas that gave rock and roll its name in the first place. But I decided to put any misplaced bitterness aside, because I’ll be damned if I pass up any opportunity to see a guitar being played. I think it is utterly foolish to try and tell the complete story of almost any one thing on the big screen. Especially when that thing is a career and life spanning decades. How could one summarize the complexities, dangers, thrills, and intricacies of show business in just two hours? And this was a major problem I had with the first portion of the movie. To...

(In no particular order) 1. Full Control- Snail Mail I could write a three page essay for every song off Snail Mail’s debut Lush without blinking an eye. Without a doubt, I have spent more time with the 16 songs in her catalogue than anything else this year. And I don’t have the slightest remorse. It all started with “Pristine,” Lindsay Jordan’s first single from the new album, in which I listened to it enough to have every lyric at least once drawn on my Physics notes. My anticipation for the full album was tangible, and I couldn’t have been more satisfied. Fantastic coming-of-age tracks like “Heat Wave,” “Stick,” “Speaking Terms,” “Golden Dream,” and “Deep Sea,” (yes I know this half the album), swirled around my conscious for months after the release, and I still re-visit them on the regular. One song that rose above the others for me was the two minute fifty-five second “Full Control.” The drums come in with a snap like being whipped into clarity, which is precisely why ...